


One Lost One Found

by WorldsofFantasticFantasy



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Absent Parents, Family Feels, Father Figures, Gen, Minor Character Death, Orphans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:24:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldsofFantasticFantasy/pseuds/WorldsofFantasticFantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saddened by the absence of his son and the loss of his men, Thranduil's heart becomes heavy. On finding a recently orphaned Elfling, will the usually hardened King take it upon himself, despite his cold reputation, to take him in, or will the constant reminder of his son, cause him to push the elfling away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Orphaned

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovelies, so it has been a very long time since I posted any work. I have to be honest and just say, well, I couldn’t really be bothered. I have lost a lot of motivation and interest for most of the things I enjoy doing (darn you! unemployment and medication – you suck). I am hoping to get back into the swing of things. I have missed ya’ll and I have missed using my imagination and creating adventures for you all to enjoy.  
> So I hope you will forgive me, if this doesn’t seem as good as my previous stuff – getting back on track. If you like it, or will like to see where this is going, then please please please review. It really does help the writer to know what you think; it can be very encouraging and constructive. So, if you would like me to continue, then please drop me a comment in the review section!  
> Love you all!   
> Xxx

The March home after the battle of the five armies was a solemn one. Many were injured; many were killed and some remained untouched on the outside but scarred from loss on the inside. King Thranduil rode at the front of the procession leading back to Mirkwood, once named the green wood, with his Captain of the guard by his side. After seeing the heart break that Tauriel endured watching her loved one die, Thranduil, though cold and hard as his appearance and attitude may appear, could not find it in his heart to let her remain banished. Of course this was music and healing to the elleth’s ears, and so she thanked him sincerely and rode by his side with a grateful heart, no matter how heavy. As Erebor looked nought but a dot in the distance, sorrow and relief both washed over the Elves; to be rid of the land in haste was a much needed antidote. The moon shone with such brightness that evening, as though rejoicing the end of battle and the remainder of life, for the earth had drank much innocent blood that the land almost looked tainted red and full of despair. Much rest was needed, and so the King raised his arm in the air to stop the procession of Elves and told them to stop for the night. After hearing loud sighs of relief from the whole procession, Thranduil dismounted his steed and patted its neck; sadly thinking back to his magnificent stag that perished among the fallen warriors; not even the wildlife were spared from the fell beasts that roamed the land. Tauriel left her King went straight to those in need and Thranduil sought a boulder on which he might sit and rest his aching back. “No, I will do that, go and get something prepared; everyone is starving, without a doubt. There are sacks of food near the carts…” Thranduil heard Tauriel give orders to this Elf and that Elf and was greatly relieved, though he did not show it, to have her back in his company.   
A light vegetable broth was passed around everyone and empty stomachs were filled; the grumbles of hunger silenced. It was the nicest evening that had all experienced for a while and they all soaked in the bliss of silence and safety gladly. Thranduil, after having his fill of food rose from his perch and made his way toward a small gathering of trees, wanting some privacy from everyone. “My Lord, is there anything you need?” A voice suddenly called as he began to walk, and his shoulders drooped in sadness. Why couldn’t he be left alone, he thought to himself? Turning, he looked upon Feren and gave a weak smile.  
“All is well; I just wish to walk by myself for some time.” The King replied and Feren nodded in respect though a look of concern still remain on his face. “What is it Feren?”  
“My lord, a great battle has just taken place; filth and orc and goblin may still be roaming these lands after fleeing. Please forgive me, but I don’t think it safe for you to venture out by yourself” Thranduil smiled at the care of his man and waved his concern away.  
“Would it settle you if I were to take my sword, and please, do not insult me as to ask if I can manage by my lonesome?” The king asked, though humour was evident in his tone. Feren smiled at his Lord and bowed.  
“Very good My Lord, duly noted. Enjoy your walk. I shall be near however, should you need my assistance” Feren responded, then with respect he left without another word. Thranduil smiled at being alone once more, and before anyone else could catch him, he walked quickly toward the trees.  
Wandering in the darkness between the trees with the laughter and chattering of his comrades in the distance, Thranduil let out a breath that he had not realized he had been holding. Thranduil allowed his smile to dissipate and tears began to trickle down his cheeks as he thought about all the men he had lost and about his son, Legolas; how he was no longer in his company. He felt such a weight lift from his shoulders when he allowed the floodgates to open without his company to witness. Being a leader required such sternness and strength, so the Golden king found it hard to let his emotions go; but now, they ran freely like a coursing river. As he slunk against a tree, closing his eyes, a strange noise sounded quite close to him and alerted all his senses. Opening his eyes in an instant, he grasped his sword in its sheath tightly. Taking a step forward, pressing his ear to the breeze, the sound came again, followed by a foul stench. Recognising the smell, Thranduil ran as fast as his aching limbs could take him, and exited the expanse of trees, calling for Tauriel, Feren and two guards. There was only one thing it could be with a stench so foul it churned the stomach; Orcs. Brandishing their swords, knives and bow, the group of Elves rushed into the trees, ready for an attack – they could not risk taking their time to stalk them, should one happen to stumble upon the procession of injured elves. As they delved deeper into the trees, the stench was almost overwhelming to the keen Elven senses, as if the Orcs were approaching them. Two of the King’s guards went first, disappearing into the shade of the oaks, and not a moment later, shrieks followed as the guards did their work in slaying the fell beasts. After an all clear call from Garethin, informing them that they need not fight as there were only three Orcs, not a gathering, Thranduil, Feren and Tauriel stepped forward past the Oak and came to a halt; mouths open wide in shock.  
Tied up to a tree, with arms in the air was a male Elf. His head hung in his unconscious state and blood dripped from his temples, spattering on the ground. A knife imbedded in his left thigh and several shallow cuts across his abdomen told Thranduil that this young one had been tortured. Rushing toward the Ellon, Thranduil placed his fingers on his neck and checked for a pulse. It was there, but it was very weak. "You are safe now. Can you hear me? You are safe." The young elf awoke to the sound of voices tried to push himself away fearing it to be another orc. When no pain came, he began to sob as he realised that the torturing had stopped. Tauriel cut free the bonds around the Ellon’s wrists and let him drop into the King’s arms. Thranduil held the Elf to him in comfort, and his eyes darted over his body in worry, a fatherly instinct kicking in. "What's your name; Penneth?"

"L-Lirinell" He answered, his voice coarse.

"You are safe Lirinell. My company and I will get you safely away from here and see to your injuries; we are not that far away. Try to stay awake" Lirinell nodded and continued to weep at the pain that was coursing through his body and the harsh throbbing in his head.  
Feren dropped down beside his King and looked over the poor form in his arms. "Should we remove the blade?"

"No..." Said Thranduil "... We do not know what the blade has struck. He could bleed to death. Our healers will know what to do. Garethin, come here and help me get him to his feet" The guard did as his king commanded and rushed over and helped raise the young elf up into the King’s arms. Lirinell yelled in anguish as his body moved and he felt as though his body had been set on fire.

"He is nought but a child!" Tauriel gasped as she caught sight of Lirinell face as he rested it on Thranduil’s shoulder.

"All the more sport for the filthy off breed" Feren responded followed by a disgusted spit on the floor.

"Come, we must leave this place. More may return and this young one needs aid" Thranduil spoke urgently and the group looked at their King in surprise; hardly ever did he show this much emotion to anyone. Tauriel felt sad for the young one as they walked back out into the open and she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. Thranduil walked on ahead of them and Feren and Tauriel walked side by side in silence. Feren waited until his King and the two guards were out of before he spoke to his friend and captain.  
“He cannot be any older than sixteen, perhaps eighteen at the most.”  
“Agreed; I cannot imagine the pain he has gone through…” Tauriel agreed, looking sideways to her friend sadly.   
“The physical pain is not all he is experiencing I imagine…” Feren continued and he stopped in his tracks.  
“What do you mean Feren?”  
“He is but a child, Tauriel … has anyone stopped to think where his parents might be? Seldom do Elves of such a young age wander along.” The Ellon explained, automatically looking back toward the trees; dread filling his entire being.

“You are right! We must check the camp – they may still be there!” Tauriel gasped at the realization and without another word, as if knowing each other’s minds, both set off back to the Orc’s camp.  
0.0.0  
Two distinct bodies led side by side, covered in blood and facial features and limbs hardly recognisable. The only things recognisable to Tauriel and Feren were gender and Elven ears. It was what they feared most; Lirinell's parents. Tauriel stepped closer to examine the bodies. It appeared that the Orcs had assaulted the female quite viciously in her lower region, and with clothes missing, it was very clear that the male was missing his lower region completely. Along with deep wounds and broken bones; it was a gruesome sight to behold. So disgusting was the situation that both Elves turned and gaged, feeling greatly uneasy at the onslaught of their kin in such an inhumane way. "How are we ever to tell that poor Ellon? It's bad enough the suffering he went through, then to tell him his parents have been brutally murdered? I will pray to the Valar for their souls…" Tauriel spoke, sadness greatly overwhelming her; tears trickling down her face. Agreeing, Feren bowed his head in respect and sighed solemnly. The silence had passed and both came to look upon the sight once more. “Should we bury them here or take them with us?”   
“I fear we do not have any room left on the carts and we cannot expect our people to carry them all the way home even if we are less than two days away. It would be right to bury them. To move them might deform them even more and they deserve a worthy burial. Go Tauriel, tell the King of our find and sent Garethin back to me to help bury the bodies. You have seen much death and do not need this image imbedded in your mind”   
Tauriel thanked her friend and headed for the procession quickly, doing everything that Feren had asked of her.

.0.0.0

Thranduil placed Lirinell onto the boulder on which he had previously sat and despite the curious and surprised glances of the gathering of Elves, the King stroked the child’s brow and looked softly at him. Lirinell opened his eyes and glanced up at the King, reaching his hand up for Thranduil to take it in comfort. "I heard them..." The child whispered, almost inaudible; his eyes wide open in fright. His eyes were red raw and tears brimmed over onto his pale, dirty cheeks.

"Shhh Penneth, you need to rest..." Thranduil cooed gently, stroking the boys head in comfort. Thranduil quickly broke eye contact and searched the procession for his healer. On spotting him, he called him over. Whilst waiting for his healer to join him, the blonde ruler looked back to the body on the stone.

"I heard them....” He repeated, almost hysterically “… I can still hear them...”   
“You are safe” Thranduil whispered, envisioning his son in Lirinell’s place. His heart twisted in pain and found that he needed to step away for a moment, feeling overwhelmed. The healer had arrived earnestly and glanced wide eyed over the child then to his King. “Do all you can to patch him up and relieve him of his pain so that he can make the journey home. I do not want another one of our kin affected by the evil in this land. The longer we wait here the more susceptible we are to attacks…” Thranduil spoke harshly; his usual demeanour taking over. With one last glance at the boy, Thranduil walked over to the recently returned Tauriel and watched as several assistants to the healer headed toward the boy.


	2. revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are safe Lirinell. We are almost at my Kingdom where you will be protected from the filth that harmed you"
> 
> "Your Kingdom?" Lirinell managed to voice aloud though it came out as a whisper.
> 
> "Yes. I am King Thranduil of Mirkwood…" Thranduil responded softly, now looking to the distance; his eyes locking on to the trees surrounding his realm with great comfort. Lirinell looked up at his elder with wide eyes and managed to whisper one more word before darkness had taken him into slumber once more.
> 
> "King?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, So thank you for the response so far; love you all loads. And a big thank you to Wenduo, RedTaz35, Pink Bunny and BlondiezHere for being my first reviewers and for making me want to continue this. So I hope this second instalment isn't a disappointment (my apologies if it is – still getting back into the swing of things) either way please review your enjoyment or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism; Hate comments don't help anyone.

0.0.0

Lirinell bit a small piece of wood between his teeth as Faranai, the Kings healer, dabbed alcohol, the Kings wine, over the wounds; making do with what little supplies he had. The young boy dug his fingers into the rock he led on, causing them to bleed from the harsh pressure against the stone. He had never felt such pain, such despair and sorrow in his few years on this earth and he begged to whatever Valar was listening, to take away the pain. He thought, as Faranai potched about here and there over his body, about his parents: where they were, if they were hurt badly, why they were even attacked at all. And then he thought about the tall, magnificent Ellon that carried him to safety. Who was he and where was he? For some reason, the young one thought, he felt safe with him. Feeling the healer move away from his abdomen to the knife sheaved in his thigh, Lirinell froze and snapped his eyes open in panic. Spitting out the wood from his mouth and brining his hands up to grasp the healer's tunic, he began to beg the elder to leave him alone. "Now, now child; you are in safe hands. There is no need to be frightened….." The elder cooed, removing Lirinell's hand from him and pushed him gently back down to lay. Lifting the wood back up to the boy's mouth, Faranai smile sadly and moved his attention once more to the knife in the thigh.

"Please don't…" Lirinell begged, fearing bleeding to death after overhearing the tall one say that it might be unsafe as they were not aware of the damage it might have caused. He was in enough pain as it was, he thought. He wanted to slip away into darkness; for his pain to just leave until there was nothing left. As if granting his wish, the young Ellon slowly lost consciousness and led limp upon the stone. Deciding that he did not want to touch the blade at that moment, Faranai left the boy in the care of his assistants, all with worried expressions on their faces, and he rushed, almost ran to his King. Thranduil at that moment was talking with several of his guards, ordering them to start moving out with the sick and wounded and what cargo they had left with them. Thranduil was lost in his kingly duties so much so that he did not realize Faranai stood beside him or the gentle touch on his arm. Tapping the blondes arm once more, Faranai sighed. Thranduil came back to himself once the guards had left his side, forming into large groups and quickly dispersing, and looked upon his healer with a confused expression.

"Yes?" He spoke, all emotion that was evident in his voice when he carried the child, had left. The stern King had returned, though it was not a surprise to the healer. Since the Queens death all those years ago, Thranduil had hardened his heart, that was true, but now and then, his loving side did appear and Faranai felt privileged to have witnessed that earlier on that afternoon.

"My Lord, I cannot do anything else to help the child until I clean him. His skin is covered in dirt and blood and is extremely irritated; I cannot tend to his deeper wounds efficiently or remove the knife in his legs in such state. It can cause infection. I need a clean and sterile environment, both of which do not exist out here in these lands. The water we have in our wineskins is not nearly enough to cleanse him. My Lord, we don't even know the colour of his hair, he is so dirty. What those filth did to him, I have no idea…" Faranai rambled on and Thranduil, frustrated, tapped his foot on the ground.

"Then the sooner we get back, the better. Is he well enough to travel?" spoke the King, annoyance evident in his tone. Faranai sighed and raised his hands dismissively whist shrugging his shoulders.

"Who can say My Lord… perhaps? But we have no space on the carts, and most of them have dispatched toward Mirkwood already. How are we going to transport him in such a state? He needs monitoring" The healer said in defeat. He wanted to please his King greatly, but the situation was a tricky one and left him feeling useless.

"He will ride with me. Prepare him. I will fetch my steed…" Thranduil replied without another thought and made to leave when Faranai spoke once more.

"My Lord?" Asked Faranai, confused at his King's words; a peasant or anyone beneath royalty would never ride with a King.

"Did I stutter Faranai? Lirinell will ride with me. Bandage him up as best you can" And with that, not allowing his healer anymore of his time to ramble or ask questions, the blonde haired King marched away toward his steed and in search for his captain of the guard. On finding both, Thranduil rode with Tauriel by the side of him back toward the child in haste. Several members of the guard held Lirinell securely but gently and their King came by the side of them. Mustering their strength, they lifted the young, unconscious boy toward Thranduil, lifting his unharmed leg over the horses back so that he straddled the steed and was sat in front of the King. Thranduil wrapped his right arm around Lirinell's waist whilst the other held on to the reins. Bidding his men a farewell for the time being, the King of Mirkwood rode off with Tauriel, Faranai and an escort behind him, leaving only a few left to travel.

As they rode hastily through the golden moors, Lirinell woke from his unconscious state and droopily looked around at the fast moving trees and boulders with confusion. Where was he, he thought? Lifting his head toward the sky, the Ellon looked upon Thranduil's expressionless face and recognised him as the one who had rescued him. Feeling unable to speak, as though his tongue were swollen, Lirinell lifted his hand up to the one resting on his waist to alert the other male. Snapping out of his revere feeling something touch his hand, the blonde haired King glanced down with a small smile. He locked eyes with the child and felt relief rush over him because he had woken. It had been almost three hours since they had dispatched from their camp and had worried that Lirinell would not wake from his unconscious state. He was thankful to the Valar for looking over this poor orphan. "You are safe Lirinell. We are almost at my Kingdom where you will be protected from the filth that harmed you"

"Your Kingdom?" Lirinell managed to voice aloud though it came out as a whisper.

"Yes. I am King Thranduil of Mirkwood…" Thranduil responded softly, now looking to the distance; his eyes locking on to the trees surrounding his realm with great comfort. Lirinell looked up at his elder with wide eyes and managed to whisper one more word before darkness had taken him into slumber once more.

"King?"

*Four Days Later*

"My Lord Elrond, we have received word from King Thranduil's scribe…" Lindir spoke as we entered the Elven Lord's office, holding out a letter. Elrond was sat at his desk, looking over old papers of past trading's when his manservant walked in and he felt a sudden wave of sadness overwhelm him. He knew that the letter would contain information about losses and injuries, but he took the letter nevertheless and opened it; surprised about the speed of this letter arriving to Rivendell. Reading through it quickly Elrond froze and sighed solemnly pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Lindir, might you fetch Master Erestor please?" Lindir bowed in respect and acknowledgement and quickly turned to fetch Lord Elrond's chief councillor. Not five minutes later did Lindir return with the raven haired scholar and left him to Lord Elrond's attention.

"You sent for me My Lord?" Erestor spoke as he knocked on the office door. Elrond glanced up solemnly, and gave a weak smile. Indicating to the chair in front of him, Elrond asked his friend to enter and close the door behind him. Sitting down, taking in Elrond's downcast demeanour, Erestor felt panic wash over him.

"Erestor, I have dreadful news to give you; I will not beat around the bush. I have news from Mathall, King Thranduil's scribe detailing the losses faced at the battle of the five armies. A great loss I understand. Amongst all that, a young Ellon was found in a grievous state and orphaned now it is understood ..."

"How awful..." Erestor spoke as Elrond paused, and he put his hand over his chest in sorrow. Though, confusion did consume his mind as he wondered why he was being told this. Perhaps this information was to go down into Lord Elrond's Logs? Perhaps the child was to come here for a time of healing? Before he could ask what he was thinking, Elrond continued.

"My dear friend, I have called you here to tell you this because that orphaned child is Lirinell..."

"Lirinell?" Erestor gasped, pushing his chair back and shock and standing to his feet. "What of my sister and her husband?" He asked, tears brimming in his eyes, and heartbreak washing over his being as he stared at his Lord. Elrond stopped a moment, finding that he could not look his friend in such a mourning state, looked down at his desk in silence. "Tell me Mellon Nin, I must know..." Elrond sighed loudly and held the paper to his face once more and read the words of the scribe aloud.

"A child named Lirinell was found by King Thranduil and his men, tied up to a tree with injuries clearly afflicted on him by a group of Orc. It was then discovered by King Thranduil's captain of the guard and his man that an older Ellon and Elleth, thought to be the child's parents, led not a few yards from the Orc camp greatly disfigured and mutilated. They did not survive. King Thranduil's man buried the child's parents where they lay and the child currently resides here in mirkwood under the care and supervision of the King himself and his wounds are being tended to by the Kings healer..." Elrond stopped reading and had not realised that he had been weeping when reading the words, as when he glanced up at his friend he noticed that both their cheeks were wet. "Erestor... I..."

"Would you send word to the King on my behalf in your response please..." Erestor interrupted, his face going turning cold and emotionless "... King Thranduil may remove himself as carer of that boy. I shall venture there within the next week or so to collect him. He is my nephew and he needs not the attention of that Elven King but of his relative. Why I was not informed sooner is beyond my understanding"

"Erestor, I understand you are grief stricken, but to remove the child now whilst he is recovering could be detrimental to his state of mind and being. With what he had been through with losing his parents and the attack; he should remain in Mirkwood for the foreseeable future" Elrond tried to reason, the healer in him speaking out. Standing to his feet, the Lord of Imladris walked to his friend and held his arms, forcing Erestor to look at him. Erestor met his eyes, but they were emotionless and hollow.

"Do not ask me to leave the only reminder I have left of my Sister in the care of that Elven King, Mellon Nin, for I cannot… I will not..."

"Then you risk his recovery Erestor. Please, listen to me…" Elrond urged, tightening his hands on Erestor's arms. Erestor pushed his Lord away and shook his head in dismay.

"If you would, please, send my message to Thranduil…" The chief councillor responded, walking to the door and pulled it open. With a rejected glance at his Lord, Erestor stormed from the room with tears dripping from his eyes.

"Oh Erestor…" Elrond sighed despondently, shaking his head.


	3. Desperation and Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ".... After reading the note, a sudden fury filled Thranduil's entire being and he crumpled the paper into a ball in his fist and sat back harshly against his throne. For some unknown reason to him, the thought of this 'Lord Erestor' coming to claim this child back and remove him from his kingdom made his blood boil. Family he may be, Thranduil thought, but Lord Erestor would find that entering his kingdom in such a manner and short notice would not go down well, nor would removing his current ward from his sickbed...."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the feedback: for reviewing, favouriting (if that's even a word) and following this story. As a thank you I wrote an extra chapter tonight to get things rolling in this story. I hope you like where this is going – but please review and let me know. I love knowing what you guys think for encouragement and for improvement if needed. Constructive criticism is most welcome.
> 
> Loves.

The journey back to Mirkwood was a swift one much to King Thranduil's relief. The child was taken straight to the infirmary along with Faranai and his assistants and Thranduil saw to his men. Over the next few days, Mirkwood was a place of rushed maid and menservants, hushed voices and mourning. Many innocent lives had been lost in the battle, and all residents of the woodland realm left the sorrow of each loved one as they wandered through the trees, lost in their thoughts. Thranduil found himself mimicking his people; sat in his throne room, answering questions, dealing with matters, his mind constantly travelled to his son Legolas and the regrets that he had in his heart about letting him go without a loving goodbye. Lirinell began his healing process, though most of his time he spent in a guest room, in an unconscious state. Thankfully, Faranai thought, the blade hand not damaged any arteries, though to his dismay, the blade was poisoned. Faranai was not too surprised as it had been an Orc blade. The healer finally felt useful once again when an antidote to the poison was made and delivered to the boy. The poison over the few days had slowly left his body, though it left him in a great state of weakness and confusion. It was the fifth day since they had returned from the borders of Erebor, and King Thranduil found a moment to himself, away from his people, and without a second thought, he found himself visiting the child; the first time he had seen him since they had arrived back. Slowly opening the door to one of his guest rooms, Thranduil walked into the room and his crystal blue eyes locked onto the thin, small form laying on the bed; so still he was. Closing the door behind himself, the King glided over to the side of the bed and stood, looking down at the pale face of Lirinell. Thranduil's eyebrows rose in surprise as he looked over the boy's hair; he was a dark blonde it would seem now that it had been washed. Smiling at that revelation and not knowing why, Thranduil reached out and placed his hand on Lirinell's brow, comfortingly. The elder noticed suddenly that the young one's eyes began to move under their lids and he took a breath of relief; he was waking. Slowly, Lirinell opened his eyes and for a moment they remained unfocused, but the movement on his head brought him back to reality. "Mae Govannen, Lirinell…" Thranduil spoke softly, his hardened demeanour breaking away like a snake shedding its skin.

"M-my King, where am I?" Lirinell spoke, glancing up at his elder. Thranduil removed his hand from Lirinell's head and came to sit next to him on the edge of the bed.

"You reside in my Kingdom. You have been treated by my healer, Faranai, and you are resting in one of my guest rooms whilst you recover."

"Where are my parents? Are they safe too?" Lirinell inquired, finding a little strength to push himself up into a sitting positon and leant against the headboard of the bed. Thranduil swallowed hard and sighed, tapping the child's leg in comfort as he stared at the fine stitching on the silver duvet.

"Lirinell… my men found your parents…" Thranduil paused a moment, deciding against telling the boy how his parents were found, figuring that it would hurt him even more so "… they did not survive the Orc attack. We had to make tracks to get you and the rest of the procession to safety; two of my men buried your parents with respect and the dignity that they deserved. I am deeply sorry to have to tell you this…" Thranduil felt a strange sensation within his being and realized that this situation reminded him of how he told his son, Legolas, about the death of his mother. Suddenly his mouth tasted bitter and his stomach felt unsettled. Looking up at the child, Thranduil felt his heart sink. Lirinell looked blankly past the King, tears trickling down his pale cheeks. "Lirinell… I- I just…" For the first time in a great while, the King of Mirkwood found himself speechless.

"My mother and father are dead..." Lirinell spoke above a whisper, wrapping his arms around himself, bringing his knees up to his chest. "… It's because of me… It's all my fault"

"Do not blame yourself, child. These happenings are beyond us…"

"It was my fault. Had I not run into the trees, we would have never been ambushed and they would never have been killed…" Lirinell sobbed hard, glancing to his side at the medical instruments on the bedside table. Without another thought, Lirinell reached out to grab a surgical knife, but before he could do anything to harm himself, Thranduil wacked the blade from his hand and grabbed the child, bringing him against his chest, wrapping his arms around his back securely. Lirinell rested his head on the King's shoulder and the most heart wrenching sob ripped through the child as he clung, hopelessly to his elder. Lirinell was far younger than Legolas had been when he was told his mother was dead, thought Thranduil as he held onto the child tightly. Legolas had been almost three hundred, where Lirinell, it was discovered, was not sixteen or eighteen as supposed by the others, but was a mere fourteen years old; the dirt and blood from the attack he had faced had aged him. After some time, the sobbing had desisted and the small body had become limp against the King. Thranduil gently pulled the child away and found him to be sleeping his eyes red and his face glistening from tears. Carefully, the elder lowered the child back down onto the bed and brushed hair from his small face. There came a sound behind him as he did so. Faranai had entered the room to check on Lirinell but was greatly surprised to see his King sat on the bed and a knife upon the floor.

"My lord, is all well? I did not expect to find you here!" The healer spoke, quickly approaching them to remove the knife from the floor. Thranduil's hard exterior appeared once more and quickly stood to his feet; a frown upon his face.

"All is well thank you Faranai. The child woke and is greatly distraught. See to it that you provide as much aid and tonics you can to comfort him. I would advise you also to remove the sharp objects on the table, should the child reached for them in despair. I will not have another death in this kingdom – is that understood?"

"Y-yes my lord." Faranai trembled and watched as the magnificent; Elven King disappeared from the room in haste. Out of sight, Thranduil wiped a stray tear from his left cheek as thoughts of Legolas, his Queen and Lirinell filled his mind.

0.0.0

Another morning had broken and another day of dealing with complaints made itself known. Sitting on his throne, looking across at the short line of his people bringing their issues forward, Thranduil sighed, silently praying to whatever Valar was listening for respite. The King found himself zoning out as the Ellon in front of him spoke, but an annoyed cough broke his revere. "My Lord, what do you think I should do?" Asked the male Elf. Thranduil blushed a moment from embarrassment, not hearing a single word the Elf had said and slumped, uncharacteristically in his chair. "… should I give my daughters hand in marriage to that man?" The Elf said in disgust and Thranduil was thankful that he had brought his complaint forward once more so that Thranduil did not have to ask what on earth he was talking about.

"A matter of the heart is not something I can make a decision on especially when it is neither my own nor a member of my family. Is your daughter of age?"

"Indeed my King…" The Elf replied his hands behind his back and his head held high.

"Then let her decide. I have no quarrel with the race of men therefore I have no reason to encourage you to dissuade your daughter from her decision. I am ruler over most things in this kingdom, but I do not command my people on whom to love. The heart is something that rules itself. You should be aware of this yourself, being married and having a child. I cannot and will not make a decision on this." Thranduil responded, his tone dull and clearly bored.

"But my lord, he is mortal! It would be a waste of her love for another, please if you-"

"I reiterate, I cannot and will not make the decision for you. Go and speak with your daughter. You are wasting my time and council here." Thranduil responded, his face deadpan.

"My lord, I-" The Elf began, trying to pursue his complaint, but one glance at the scowl on his King's face was enough to change his mind, and with a quick bow and a whispered thanks, he dashed from the hall in haste. As he did so, a Mirkwood messenger entered the hall and rushed to the front of the que and bowed. Holding out an envelope to his King, the messenger informed him that it was a correspondence from Rivendell. Dismissing the remainder of the people in his hall and the messenger also, Thranduil held the letter for a moment before slowly opening it with a furrowed brow in confusion.

"To My Dear King and Friend, Thranduil of Mirkwood,

It is with a heavy heart that I respond to your letter. Such great losses you have encountered for a fight that was greatly avoidable on the Dwarves part. Having lost many of my men in my past, I can greatly sympathize with you, and my prayers go out to all those whom have lost loved ones. Though my condolences are passed onto you through this letter, I also write to you concerning the matter of the young orphaned child in your company. It has come to my attention that the child you have in your care is the nephew of my chief Councillor, Lord Erestor. He has been informed of all that has gone on, including the brutal death of his Sister and Brother-in-law. As the only living relative Lord Erestor has remaining on this good earth, he wishes for the child to be brought to Rivendell. I am completely understanding of the child's condition and have urged Lord Erestor to remain with you, but to no avail. I am hereby informing you that you should expect Lord Erestor and his escort within the next week or so. I understand that this is somewhat short notice, and I beg your pardon if this happens upon any plans you might have made for the near future.

Please accept my apologies on Lord Erestor's behalf, but I ask that you also forgive his persistence; he had after all lost a great loved one, and we can both understand how he is feeling at this present time. Please give my regards to Faranai, your healer. We were good acquaintances in the past.

Yours Faithfully,

Lord Elrond of Imladris."

After reading the note, a sudden fury filled Thranduil's entire being and he crumpled the paper into a ball in his fist and sat back harshly against his throne. For some unknown reason to him, the thought of this 'Lord Erestor' coming to claim this child back and remove him from his kingdom made his blood boil. Family he may be, Thranduil thought, but Lord Erestor would find that entering his kingdom in such a manner and short notice would not go down well, nor would removing his current ward from his sickbed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You just compromised any chance of befriending the King or even getting him on your side. That is not a good sign. Watch yourself Lord Erestor; a guest you may be, but like me, you are no one to speak to a King the way you did" Tauriel spoke and grabbed the Councillors arm, turning him to face the door which they entered in. "I would be on my best behaviour if I were you; King Thranduil does not have a good reputation for owning a cool head. Now, please, follow me…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies, so here is the next chapter. I hope you like. Please please please read and review and tell me what you think. Your reviews encourage me and help me to write the next chapter! Apart from Lirinell, his parents and Faranai, Tolkien owns all characters and places. What a marvellous man! Much loves to you all!

"Lirinell, please, drink this tonic, it will help with your pains…" Faranai urged the boy, holding out a goblet to him. Lirinell sat on his bed, eyes slightly sunken from tiredness, pain and mourning. He stared at the goblet begrudgingly and sighed loudly. Faranai had been urging him for several days since the King visited his chamber. He was watched at all times and was not permitted to leave his room in case he hurt himself, for he was weak at this time. Taking the goblet without another word the child downed the liquid, silently gagging at the taste. "Good, I am glad you have finally listened to me. You will be glad to hear that you will be seeing a change of scenery today master Lirinell…"

"Are you jesting?" Lirinell responded tiredly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Faranai walked over to the curtains in the room and pulled them open, allowing the light from the glorious son to enter the room and caress the objects; casting golden silhouettes around the room.

"I do not jest, Penneth. King Thranduil would like your presence during luncheon this afternoon. He asked if you were well enough to venture outside the doors of this room. I reassured the King that a little sunlight and a chance to stretch your legs would be good for you. Though no overdoing it; you are still unwell. Now, let me help you change from your bed clothes and presentable to dine with the King" Replied the healer with a cheery tone, moving to the wardrobe by the window, opening the doors to pull out black breeches and a silver tunic. "These should fit you…" He said more to himself than to the boy and walked over to the bed. Lirinell tossed his duvet aside eagerly and feebly moved to the end of his bed, slowly letting his legs down over the side; wincing at the pain emanating from his stitched up wound on his thigh, the movement pulling at the threads holding the skin together. Faranai came to his side and gently lifted up Lirinell's arms, followed by his nightshirt. Quickly, so as not to allow Lirinell to catch cold, he pulled on the fresh, clean tunic. Moving onto the breeches and undergarments, Lirinell frowned.

"Whos clothes are these?"

"They belonged to King Thranduil's son, Prince Legolas, when he was your age"

"Is the Prince dead?"

"Goodness, no, he is taking some time away from home. Battle wearies even the gentlest of beings. He is much older than you and needs not the careful eye of a parent at all times. Elflings at your age are most mischievous." Explained the healer, moving on from putting the breeches on, to a pair of plain brown boots, and gently slipped them on for the young elf. Lirinell nodded his head in contentment with the answer and reached for a brush that rested on the bedside table. Slowly he began to brush his hair and thought about the prince; what it must be like to go on adventures without an adult present. To have so much freedom with no one to answer to; it sounded like bliss. "You are in a world of your own Lirinell…." Faranai chuckled, observing the child, standing to his feet after dressing him. Lirinell smiled kindly and placed the brush back down onto the bedside table. "… Give me your hand; ill help you up" Lirinell reached forward and allowed the elder to pull him to his feet. Groaning in pain, Lirinell closed his eyes. "Is this too much? I can inform the King…"

"No, no. I can do this Faranai." Lirinell opened his eyes and took a step forward. Pain ricochet through his entire being, but he bit back his need to groan for his need to see outside these doors was even greater. Faranai walked in front of him to open the door and watched with concern as the child slowly walked from the room; his back slightly hunched over.

"Follow me then Penneth, and I will lead you to the King and the feasting hall"

.0

The news that an escort from Rivendell had been sighted by his guards trooping the barren lands before the border of Mirkwood had reached the King's ear with much distaste this morning. Lord Erestor and his men would arrive in the Kingdom within the next two or three days and this thought riled the King. He sat at the head of the table, with his captain of the guard and Feren gracing his company. A scowl rested on his features, though Tauriel and Feren knew that it was not aimed at them. Thranduil had asked these two to join in luncheon for as he thought about Lirinell dining with him; he thought it right that the two other people that were there when he was saved should be there to dine with him. Tauriel could no longer stand the silence glooming in the feasting hall and cleared her throat. "Have you received word from Legolas since his departure My Lord?" Thranduil pulled away from his thoughts and glanced at the red head beside him. He almost snapped at her for mentioning his son, but he quickly recalled his son's fondness for this elleth and Tauriel's fondness toward his son, and so his features softened slightly.

"I have not, though I do not expect to for some time. He is on a quest…" Thranduil noted the raise in Tauriel and Feren's eyebrows, knowing that they would ask about said quest, by the King found that he could not continue talking about his son, lest his emotions overtake him. "… Details are not important." Tauriel and Feren both nodded in respect and as they did so, the doors to the feasting hall opened and Faranai entered, followed by a very slow Lirinell. Tauriel and Feren stood to their feet and Thranduil examined the child from his seat as he walked in. Tauriel looked over the child and felt sorrow overwhelm her. It was clear that he was recovering at a very slow pace for an Elf. His skin was very pale, paler than the usual Elven complexion, as was the darkness around his eyes as though he lacked sleep; of which they were informed he did not. He limped slightly and his eyes remained on the floor, conscious of the onlookers. Eventually after a few minutes, Lirinell reached the table and found his courage to look up. He found all three smiling at him warmly and it somehow lessened his nerves. "Welcome Lirinell, it is good to see you up and about. Please, take a seat…" Thranduil spoke, indicating to the chair next to him and then kindly dismissed his healer. Lirinell did as he was told and folded his hand in front of him on the table. "How do you fare?"

"Better My Lord, thank you…" Lirinell answered, glancing up at the man who carried him to safety.

"Blonde suits you, Penneth" Feren spoke, remarking on the child's hair after finally being able to discern the colour, now that it had been washed; for he had not seen him since the day the found him.

"Thank you Sir…" Lirinell replied, almost robotic like to the other elder and looked back down to his hands. Tauriel, with a concerned expression looked to her King. Thranduil registered the look and gave a slight nod to his captain. Needing something to break the ice, Thranduil called to his servants to bring the food in and eagerly they obliged, leaving momentarily and returning in haste; placing the platters or meat, cheese, bread and fruits on the table before them all.

"Please, eat" Thranduil said to the three sat at the table. The sound of small and polite chatter filled the room though Lirinell remained silent. Whilst Feren and Tauriel were caught in deep conversation about a scouting trip they were planning, the King turned his attention to the child and his eyes softened. "My son's clothes suit you, Lirinell" Lirinell glanced up and spurred his apologies one after the other but was silenced when Thranduil raised his hand to him. "Please, do not fret. They do not fit Legolas anymore. I would rather them be put to good use. His mother made several of the tunics, including that one."

"Where is the Queen, My Lord?" Lirinell asked, and as he did, Tauriel and Feren stopped speaking and glanced to their King in shock at the question. Thranduil's features hardened and he reached for his goblet, swigging some wine.

"She is no more" The King Replied, his tone harsh, though he did not mean it to be to the young child. Tauriel, feeling that perhaps both she and Feren should no longer be there; she made up an excuse for needing to leave and thanked the King for his generosity and the meal. Feren catching on and agreeing with the captain of the guard rose from his chair mimicking the words of his friend. Thranduil believed their words and inclined his head towards them in thanks for attending his meal and he watched as they quickly and quietly left the room without another word. It was quiet for a moment; Thranduil's focus locked onto the doors of the feasting room. Lirinell squirmed in his seat from the harsh atmosphere and picked up his goblet of water, taking a long gulp. "You look tired" The words came after much silence and Lirinell glanced up, looking to the elder who was still watching the door as he spoke. "Are you not sleeping well?"

"I see my parents, red with blood and crying in anguish when I close my eyes. I try to stay awake" Lirinell answered honestly, and took another swig of water; his eyes glistening with fresh tears. Thranduil swallowed hard as he watched the child suffer in so much pain. Reaching a hand across and placing it atop the child's, Thranduil gave it a soft, reassuring squeeze.

"I can get my man to provide you with a sleeping tonic. Slumber aids in the process of healing, so you would benefit from it greatly; especially as your healing process will be somewhat interrupted" Thranduil explained.

"What do you mean?" Lirinell Inquired, his brow furrowing.

"Lord Erestor is coming for you within the next few days to return you to Imladris" explained the King with much distaste.

"Lord Erestor?"

"Yes, your mother's brother. Do you not know him?" Thranduil was surprised and felt even more of an urge to protect him, as though he were his son. Thranduil recognised in that moment that he felt for the child; the way a father loves his son, the way he loves Legolas. He thought, very quickly, almost day dreaming, about raising this boy as his own, until Lirinell's reply broke his trail of thought.

"Perhaps when I was a couple of years old, but I cannot say I 'know him'. I do not wish to leave here!" the child said, almost frightened, and he glanced into the King's eyes pleadingly.

"I am afraid I have no say in the matter, though I would keep you here indeed"

"You do have a say; you are a King!"

"I do not have the right to keep you from your family though Lirinell"

"But I am under your care, am I not? I wish to remain so. Please, do not pass me on to this Lord Erestor. I do not want to leave. I do not wish to venture to Imladris, nor do I feel well enough to travel!"

"I will see what I can do; but I make no promises, you understand?"

"I understand my King, but I would be eternally grateful"

0..0.0.0

Lord Erestor pulled up to the grand wooden gates of the entrance to the once named Greenwood accompanied by three guards, all of which were behind the councillor, looking up at the gate with complete and utter awe of its enormity. Dismounting his steed, Erestor strode over to the gate and banged his fist heavily on the door four times. A loud crack sounded and slowly the doors began to open revealing a group of guards, armoured and frowning with the captain of the guard standing in front with arms crossed. "Not the friendliest of greetings, I must say…" Erestor commented once the doors had opened and his men now stood behind him. Tauriel we quiet for a few moments longer then took several long strides towards the councillor.

"Le suilon (I greet you), Councillor Erestor" Tauriel spoke, dropping her arms to her side, staring into the raven haired male's eyes.

"Greeted you may have, but I sense I am not wanted here, judging by the lack of welcome and the vacant expressions of your men"

"Forgive me Lord Erestor, but welcoming parties are provided for royalty and those invited by the King himself; both of with do not apply to you. As for my men; they are guards, charged with guarding this realm. They have not been given any order by me, or the King, to greet each Ellon or elleth passing these gates merrily. Now please, if you have quite finished complaining about your 'welcoming', follow me as I escort you to the King. Leave your men and possessions here; my men will see that both are brought to your rooms safely." Tauriel spoke, knowing that she was somewhat out of place speaking such words to a Lord, but she could not help her maternal feelings for Lirinell cloud her judgement of this male. Turning her back on the shocked councillor, Tauriel began walking into the Kingdom without another word. Erestor managed to close his mouth from his shock and then followed the fiery woman through the second set of doors. Erestor was led past many magnificent tree trunks holding up some of the architecture of the Kingdom. It was a beautiful place. Not as stunning as Lothlorien, and not as welcoming as Imladris however, Erestor thought. After passing wooden bridges here, and corridors and stairs there, the raven haired elf was brought to another set of grand, oak doors. Tauriel nodded to the two guards either side of the doors and waited for them to push them open. Thanking them, Tauriel entered the room with Erestor in tow. It was a grand room; golden, light, large and intricately architectured. It was out of character, compared to the rest of the realm. Erestor walked past a few tables and chairs and was brought to stand in front of the Kings throne. Thranduil sat with his crown upon his head; legs crossed, eyes bored, cloaked in a fantastically coloured, red robe. Thranduil's hair stood out against the cloth like liquid light running down a wall of blood; he was beautiful, yet terrifying. Such an aura surrounded him; regal and majestic. Erestor bowed slightly and Thranduil smirked. Tauriel Stood to the side of the throne, her arms behind her back, looking straight forward, guarding her King.

"Welcome Lord Erestor. I trust the journey did not cause any mishaps?" Thranduil's authoritative voice sounded suddenly, causing Erestor to start a little in surprise. Erestor snorted in disrespect and folded his arms in discontent. "Is something wrong?" Thranduil inquired, unamused at the disrespect he was being shown.

"I cannot say I feel welcome, King Thranduil, as I have already said to your Captain…" Erestor replied, looking from Thranduil to Tauriel and back. Thranduil uncrossed his legs and sat forward on his seat, his brow furrowing.

"I would offer my apologies, Lord Erestor, but I cannot bring myself to feel sorrow or guilt of any form in the way my people greeted you. You see, I AM King of this realm, and I AM in charge all of all that enter and leave it and I do not respond well to someone telling me they are coming without my consent, let alone with the intention of taking a child, not far from fading into darkness out into the wild." Thranduil seethed and stepped down from his throne, coming to stand in front of the councillor

"I apologise, my King for my presumptuous announcement in coming to your kingdom without your consideration or permission but forgive me; Lirinell is MY nephew and I have every right to come and collect him. My King, please do not take offence for the words I speak, but you are not his blood, not his family, I am. You hold no claim over him" Erestor spoke as he took a step backward from the intimidating blonde.

"I may not be a relation, but were it not for me, my men and my healer; your nephew would not be alive. Lirinell is my ward." Thranduil replied, seething. "Have you no regard for his state of health!"

"Of course! I am no savage. Lord Elrond is more capable of dealing with the child's ailments that your healer!"

"Do you insult my staff, Lord Erestor? I would advise you hold your tongue. Despite my distaste to the situation, you are a guest in my home – I would hate to change that privilege. It is nearly dinner time. Lirinell will be dining with us tonight, as long as he is well enough to walk. Perhaps it would be good of you, Lord Erestor, to consider the child's feelings. Family is not one sided."

"And where is your son, Prince Legolas, exactly?" Erestor spat, and regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Thranduil's eyes darkened and it looked as though he grew taller and he straightened his back in anger. Snapping his head to the side to get Tauriel's attention, Thranduil grit his teeth.

"Tauriel, please escort Lord Erestor to his chambers and fetch him when our meal time arrives." Thranduil spoke with such venom. Without another word Thranduil turned his back on the Elf and left the throne room through a door behind the throne. Erestor gulped, kicking himself and turned to glance at the red head.

"You just compromised any chance of befriending the King or even getting him on your side. That is not a good sign. Watch yourself Lord Erestor; a guest you may be, but like me, you are no one to speak to a King the way you did" Tauriel spoke and grabbed the councillors arm, turning him to face the door which they entered in. "I would be on my best behaviour if I were you; King Thranduil does not have a good reputation for owning a cool head. Now, please, follow me…"


	5. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I will not leave with you” Lirinell spat, copying the elders actions, but as he stood, the young elf became very light headed. Before either elders could react, Lirinell swayed and fell to the floor; unconsciousness embracing him in a hurry. Thranduil rose to his feet in an instant and rushed to the boy that led on the floor. Thranduil placed his hand under Lirinell’s head, lifting it up and held him to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, so sorry for the long wait. I have been on continuous drug trials for pain relief which has caused withdrawal a lot as you can imagine – so I haven’t felt up to doing much lately. My apologies that this is such a short chapter, but I can assure you all that much is planned for future chapters. I hope you enjoy this. Please, please, please review and leave happy comments or constructive criticism.   
> Loves you all.

Awkwardness consumed the feasting hall and naught but the sound of beating heartbeats was heard. The King of the realm sat at the head of the table, elbows perched on the edge and hands folded in front of his mouth, observing the silence with much hatred in his heart. He looked between the child to his left and the councillor to his right; food completely untouched. Lirinell had come to the feast none to quietly, but he respected his king’s commands to attend. He glanced up every now and then to look at his ‘uncle’ then back down to his cheese and meat. He had no desire to leave the realm of Mirkwood with this man. His desire was to remain in this realm, to heal, to recover mentally and physically from the distress and loss he had faced on the pass to Erebor. Erestor tapped his long slender fingers on the beach wood, feeling annoyance creep up inside his being at the refusal of his nephew to look him in the eye and for not wanting to leave with him. It felt as though the ability to speak had been taken from them all until at last, the King’s patience broke and he slammed a fist on the table, causing his company to jump in surprise. “So what is your proposed date of departure?” Thranduil hissed, glancing across to the councillor of Rivendell, his brow furrowing in great distaste.  
“Tomorrow if possible… maybe the day after…” Erestor replied with the same distaste, though a voice in the back of his mind reminded him to remain calm, for Thranduil was King after all and had the power to either throw him from the kingdom or have him killed for disrespect.   
“What, you cannot be serious!” Lirinell shouted, his eyes glued to his Uncle.   
“Keep silent, this discussion is between the King and I” Erestor spoke in annoyance.  
“I have every right to voice my opinion, Uncle. It is I whom you are discussing in depth. And I tell you now that I have no desire to leave with you. I am still recovering. I was tortured! I lost my parents!”  
“AND I LOST MY SISTER!...” Erestor shouted, his grief overwhelming him as he used his legs to push the chair back. He stood to his feet, towering over Thranduil and Lirinell.  
“I will not leave with you” Lirinell spat, copying the elders actions, but as he stood, the young elf became very light headed. Before either elders could react, Lirinell swayed and fell to the floor; unconsciousness embracing him in a hurry. Thranduil rose to his feet in an instant and rushed to the boy that led on the floor. Thranduil placed his hand under Lirinell’s head, lifting it up and held him to his chest.   
“Guards!” Thranduil shouted and two guards burst into the feasting hall, looking upon the sight in shock. Thranduil commanded them to go and fetch the healer. Obeying, the guards turned and ran in haste. The Kings eyes, burning with rage came to focus upon a white faced Erestor. “Do you see now, you fool! He is in no state to leave. Do you wish for him to fade like your sister! This child is your nephew – at least act like you love him like the uncle you should be.” Erestor listened on with tear filled eyes as shame overwhelmed him. He lowered his head and looked to the limp boy.  
“I-I am…” Erestor began, but his sentence was cut short by Thranduil’s raised hand.  
“I will not consider nor accept the reasons why you have come to my home. You will return to your guest chambers, pack your things and leave at first light with your men. When and only when Lirinell is well, I shall consider your plight, but not without Lirinell’s consent. If he still has no desire to leave, then he will NOT. If you love him as you supposedly do, you will do as I say” drummed the King; his voice loud and laced with authority. Erestor blinked and allowed a tear to grace his cheek. He had been so blind in his mourning, an in his blindness brought more sickness and stress upon the child. His actions were no more graceful than that of a man or dwarf and that made the councillor sick, sick inside. Letting out a breath, shaky with emotion, Erestor nodded and quickly turned to leave the room. As he approached the grand doors to exit the room, the healers and the two guards walked past; disappointment upon their faces. Erestor quickened his pace and allowed tears to flow freely down his paling cheeks.   
Thranduil sighed; he hated being a hard and stern King – though it was how the realm saw him. As soon as the healers reached him, Thranduil detached himself from the child and watched as the healers placed the boy on a stretched and headed toward the healing chambers. Thranduil pinched the bridge of his nose and lowered his head.  
“My Lord?” A familiar voice sounded. Thranduil glanced up and looked upon a concerned Tauriel. His features automatically hardened and his posture straightened. “Are you ok?”  
“Yes, thank you” Came his hard voice. “What do you want Tauriel?”  
“I heard the commotion with Lord Erestor. I came to offer my aid; though I can see you need it not. Forgive me My Lord, for my misunderstanding.” Tauriel spoke, blushing in embarrassment.   
“If I needed your help, Captain, I would ask for it. Go… make sure Lord Erestor has everything in order to depart at first light”  
“Yes My Lord, as you command” Replied Tauriel, bowing in respect. She then turned and left the room in haste. Thranduil sighed once more and made for a door in the farthest corner of the feasting hall that led to the royal gardens. Fresh air was much needed. It was at that moment that Thranduil longed for his wife and the presence of his only son.


End file.
